


Whores Don't Matter to Warriors

by back on my bullshit (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din makes me feel things, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, POV First Person, Pedro Pascal is a sexy single dad and I'm here for it, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Triggers, Vaginal Fingering, no beta we die like men, regular updates, touch-starved mando
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/back%20on%20my%20bullshit
Summary: In which (Y/N) and The Mandalorian's adventures are catalogued.ABANDONED
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 161





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> I am in no way affiliated with Disney and own nothing except my original characters.

I pocketed the imperial credits that my client reluctantly gave me. I was putting on my shoes and fixing my mussed hair on my way out when my comm link to Ran made a noise.

"Get to the hangar. We need you for something, Zero is out of commission."

"Copy that, Ran."

I re-applied my lip stain and headed toward the hangar.

I successfully avoided catcalls and offers for work for most of the way, until I was shoved against the wall, a rough and calloused hand against my cheek.

"Tonight, bitch. Tonight I'll get you."

I dragged a single finger down the man's chest, hooking it in one of his belt loops. I tugged him toward me.

"I'm afraid tonight isn't going to work," I said, looking innocently into his eyes. I slowly moved my face to lick a narrow stripe up his neck, pausing at his ear to whisper, "rain check?"

The man walked away from me, and I spit on the ground. He tasted like cheap cologne. He smelled like sweat.

When I finally arrived at the hangar, I stopped in my steps as I took in the beautiful ship landing. I hadn't seen anything like it.

The dust settled, and I was even more amazed at the man that stepped out of it. He was tall, and even though he hadn't said a word, he was menacing. 

I was pulled out of my wonder when an arm was slung around my shoulders.

"Hey look! It's our resident whore!"

Mayfeld. 

I shrugged his arm off and stalked toward Ran, who was laughing loudly and speaking something of the good old days. 

"Ran." I said.

He turned around to face me, a large smile on his face.

"(Y/N)! Meet Mando! We used to work together."

The armored man gave a nod in my direction. I returned the gesture.

He didn't seem as amused about 'the good old days' as Ran was. I didn't blame him. 

I saw a flash of purple in my peripheral. 

Xi'an. 

She came up behind Mando, a hand going to rest on his shoulder. 

The armored man whipped around and grabbed her by the wrist, his blade at her throat. 

"Mando, darling how are you?" She crooned in a singsong voice.

The man said nothing, and released her wrist. He turned around to face Ran again. 

"What do you need me for?"

The voice coming through the modulator was low and smooth, but rough from disuse. It was nice. Ran began to explain the mission to him.

"Well, I told you that we're going on a rescue mission. It's a droid-staffed old imperial prison ship. (Y/N) will be staying on the Crest, acting as your guide through the ship. She’s a backup mechanic, our droid is out.”

“Yeah, only a backup because the only thing she’s good at is prostituting herself to the smugglers and pilots around here,” Xi’an piped up, giggling.

“And yet still I’m wealthier than you, Xi’an. Tell me, does that say more of your skills as a mercenary or more of mine as a whore?” I asked her, a smirk on my face.

Xi'an olled her eyes. Ran finished explaining exactly what we were to do, and everyone dispersed. I pulled my gloves out of my back pocket and pulled my glasses from the collar of my shirt. The ramp to the Razor Crest opened as Burg loaded some supplies into the hold. I strode into the cockpit and ran some diagnostics on the vessel. The armored stranger walked into the cockpit behind me.

“She’s beautiful, you’ve got a real gem, man. Not too efficient though. I could do some repairs on the wiring and she’d be up to speed.”

“I’m not interested.” Mando said. “Thank you, though.” 

I figure he added that for good measure.

Nodding, I rose from my squatting position on the ground. I gently sat down in the captain’s seat. The leather was soft and supple, but clearly molded to a figure far larger than mine.

“Be careful.”

There was a silent ‘with her’ that the man clearly didn’t say. I nodded again. Reaching over the dash, I flipped a few switches and the ship purred to life. I heard the man stalk out of the room, and the ship lifted from the ground. Soon, we were shooting through empty space.

I stretched to bring the ship-wide comm to my mouth.

“We’re 15 minutes out from docking with the target ship.”

I slowed down the Crest to try and spot the flying prison, and it quickly came into view.

“Prepare for docking,” I said through the comms. I maneuvered the ship onto the the top of the carrier, and made quick work of docking.

“Docking complete. I will give you directions throughout the duration of the mission.”

The mission went by quickly, and soon, Mando boarded the ship again.

Without the others.

“I don’t blame you,” I told him. “A nasty lot, they are.”

The man nodded. 

“Back to the station?”

He nodded again.

I piloted us back to the floating hub of criminality and landed in the hangar we were in previously. I lowered the ramp for Mando and shut down the ship from the cockpit. After I pocketed my gloves, I put my glasses back on my shirt collar. Having done that, I used a metal plate as a mirror to freshen up.

As I exited the beautiful ship, I was already receiving stares. My gaze, however, searched to find the man in beskar armor. I saw him and immediately matched his stride.

“Why did Ran look so angry with you?”

The man jerked his head to a bar. I followed him there. We sat down at a table in the corner. I could tell that I was already getting stares from past clients.

The man’s voice was low and quiet when he said something that both shocked and elated me.

“I need you to come with me. I have a valuable asset on my ship and it needs to be looked after. I can pay handsomely, and should you wish, you will be returned here when the asset is safe.”

I looked at him incredulously.

“Let me get some things together.”

I got up from the small table and was almost immediately cornered by the man from earlier today.

“Oh I sure hope you didn’t promise that tin can anything tonight, you’re all mine tonight.”

The hulking figure grabbed me by the shoulders, and I was thrown back to my youth.

-

Large hands were clamped around my shoulders as a strange man took my purity from me. I tried to cry out, but another man took the opportunity to use my mouth for his pleasure.

I soon fell unconscious.

When I wake, I don't think I wants to know how many times I was taken last night.

-

Suddenly, it was not me falling unconscious, but the man in front of me. The Mandalorian stood in his wake, his hand still in a fist.

“You alright?”

I nodded breathlessly.

“Then let’s get out of here.”</


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: depictions of rape
> 
> This one is a bit shorter than the last, I do apologize. I plan to regularly update the stories on Fridays and Mondays.

I searched around my quarters for things that I would need while traipsing ‘round the galaxy with a feared hunter.

Clothes, certainly. I packed just about everything I owned, from old oil-stained to the revealing numbers I strutted around in when money was tight. 

Those may come into use. 

Money, of course. I had withdrawn all of my savings and everything from my active account on the way here, but like anyone with half a brain, I stored a fair amount of money in my room, under my mattress and such.

The mandalorian was standing in the threshold of my quarters, the door shut behind him. He was surveying my room, and he hadn’t said anything in a while.

When I was almost finished packing my bag, he began to walk around. He approached the safe I stored in the fresher, and was in the process of opening it when I saw him.

“No, Mando, don’t—”

I was cut off by the hissing of the safe door. A small gasp escaped the beskar-clad man as he discovered the contents of the box. It was full of toys, both for my pleasure and that of someone else’s.

I’d never seen a man so in shock when he fell back against the fresher wall.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I didn’t know—”

Now it was his turn to be interrupted.

“It’s okay, Mando. It made me money when I needed it. But now we’re getting off of this hunk of junk and that’s not something I have to do any longer.”

He nodded and got up off the ground, stalking toward the doorway again. I took some of the toys from the safe (as I did enjoy many of them myself) and I locked it back again. My quarters were empty, and I had a bag over my shoulder.

“You go first. They’ll suspect something if they see us walking to the ship at the same time.”

Mando stepped out of the doorway and let me pass by. I headed to the hangar in which the ship was left, and I boarded it quickly. Five minutes passed before I heard the footfalls of the man in the cockpit.  
After he showed me to the bunk, he introduced me to the asset, which he called the child.

It was a precious green thing, and he was very curious.

Soon after, we took off and sped into space. The man and I made small talk.

Well, I made small talk. Suddenly though, he turned to me.

“Was it something you wanted to do?”

“What, whoring myself around? Of course not. It was like slavery where I was own master.”

“But it made money?”

“But it made money.”

I nodded slowly.

“You don’t have to do that anymore, you know.”

“I know, but if it’s ever something you need on a mission, I can use it to my advantage.”

Mando shook his head. 

“I’m not going to do that to you.”

I smiled.

“I’m going to retire to bed,” I said, standing. I walked to the bunkroom and changed into some sleeping clothes. After using the fresher, I tucked myself into the small bunk. Immediately, I was asleep and dreaming. 

-

I was tied down.

‘It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m getting paid for this. It’s okay, breathe.’

His hand came down again and again, slapping my face back and forth. I was gagged and could make no noise, no call for help. 

Tears were streaming down my face and my sobs were muffled.

Everything hurt. Every part of my body felt abused and taken advantage of when I walked out of that room.

After a few steps, I leaned over and threw up on the ground the little food that was in my stomach. My hand rested on the wall, as the other held my hair back. Eyes were pointed at me, mostly other girls who knew what I was feeling. Tears still streamed down my face, and my sobs were periodically interrupted with bile rising in my throat

-

That it how I woke.

The first thing I saw was Mando’s shiny helmet blurred through my tears.

He had one hand on my shoulder and his other hand had mine enclosed in it. It was warm.

Mando was warm. 

“Are you okay?”

I shook my head. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head again. Mando obviously didn’t know what to do, so he just squeezed my hand until my tears slowed.

I looked over at him slowly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head.

“We’ve all got our demons.”

We sat in awkward silence for a while before he rose from the floor. He walked out of the room and he didn’t come back until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in no way affiliated with Disney. The only things I own are original ideas of mine.


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a tad longer. If anyone wants to talk about the finale of season one, DM me on instagram @thoughts.for.3.am or @fae_baby_boy.
> 
> WARNING: graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of gore, mention of death.

Generally, that was how it went. 

I took care of the child while Mando was gone, perhaps accompanying him into the towns and cantinas where he got his jobs. I’d shop around with the kid for a while, grabbing rations, first-aid kits, (because Mando goes through those like a knife through paper) and clothes when needed.

Then I would put the child to bed and after cleaning up around the ship, I’d retire to bed. Sure, I’d wake up a couple of times a night from the nightmares. If Mando was on the ship, he would hold my hand or rub my back when I emptied my stomach.

If Mando wasn’t there, then he wasn’t there. 

It was nice though. Having a routine. Perhaps I felt needed, like a quaint little housewife does when she’s doing chores.

But I am no housewife, I do not live on a peaceful planet, and I do not wait for my beloved to return to me.

No, I am a whore, I live out of a suitcase, and I wait for news that my partner is alive. 

Additionally, I take care of an adorable green creature. 

Who I’m pretty sure is a Jedi.

-

“Mando,” I said.

He turned his head toward me slightly.

“Why didn’t you ask someone else to come?”

The beskar-clad warrior tilted his head in thought for a moment.

“You needed to get out of there.”

“Sure, but plenty of other people needed out of there, too.”

He nodded.

“You had too much potential. I didn’t want you to do that for the rest of your life.”

That was the last that was said of the matter.

-

We stood in the ruined cantina, weapons drawn and we heard the troopers complete the setup of an e-web outside.

“Stars, guys. This thing isn’t something to mess with, is there any way we can get out of here?”

My voice was frantic. Everyone shook their heads.

The man was monologuing about the e-web, but he truly caught our attention with this:

“If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper, Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model.” 

He gestured to the weapon behind him, and Cara stepped forward, her brow furrowed.

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordnance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of A Thousand Tears.” 

Mando paused, and our eyes widened. I put my hand on his shoulder, a silent apology.

The man was speaking of Greef Karga, but my attention wasn’t on him. My thoughts were consumed with ideas on how to get out, but no plans came to fruition.

“I believe, however, that former mechanic (Y/N) (L/N) would have the best idea of how this beautiful machine works.”

I stiffened at his words, my hand falling from Mando’s—Din’s shoulder.

“Or do you not remember how your parents were blown to ashes before your eyes, prompting you to join the rebellion in the first place? I will give you until nightfall, and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire.”

My eyes opened wider and I fell, feet collapsing under me. I landed on my knees, my breathing heavy and uneven. Din squatted next to me, but I heard nothing that he was saying. My ears rang, and tears fell rapidly down my face.

Din pressed the forehead of his helmet to mine, and stood.

Soon, I was alone in the cantina. The ground shook beneath me, rattling the bottles on the shelves.

Perhaps it was the shattering of the rest of the window or the sharp pain in my side that abruptly made my panic intensify. The remnants of a fiery explosion blew in through the window.

Karga burst in, along with the IG unit carrying the child and Cara dragging in Din. The woman placed Din on a table and began to speak to him. 

I didn’t realize that I was laying on the ground until Karga loomed over me. He moved his mouth but no sound came out, my ears still ringing. He lifted me and placed me on a table next to Din.

Could I even call him that? Is it allowed? Would he be angry?

I looked over to him, he was injured. Cara pulled her hand away from his helmet and she stopped speaking. Her hand was covered in blood.

I reached out my hand and grabbed Din’s. He rolled his head to look at me, and I began to smile at him until I felt something shift in my side and I screamed. His hand squeezed mine as I looked down at myself. A huge piece of glass stuck out of the left side of my torso.

Karga had his hand on it, and he was talking to Cara. The IG Unit was working on cutting open a grate, and the child was waddling on the floor. Suddenly, a blast of fire came through the open window. Everyone screamed, and I faintly heard it. On the bright side, my hearing was coming back. 

Moments later, a flametrooper stood in the door. He raised his gun and I squeezed Din’s hand in farewell. However, we were not burned, and I heard the clang and thud of the trooper hitting the ground. Cara looked over to me.

“(Y/N), we’re going to need to move you.”

“No. I—I can’t. You know it.”

“You’re going to be fine. I’ve negotiated with Din, too. I’m going to find a way to get you both out of here, okay?”

I shook my head.

“You move me, my organs get severed. I’m just glad the adrenaline hasn’t gone away yet.”

I chuckled.

It hurt. 

IG-11 finished opening the grate, and Cara got it’s attention.

“IG, can you do anything about these two?”

The droid walked over to us, analyzing.

“I have a bacta spray I can use on the bounty hunter. Unfortunately, I will need more sufficient medical supplies for (Y/N).”

IG-11 turned around to pick up the child.

“See? Even he said. T—there’s no use. Just leave me.”

“However, I must take off Din’s helmet to apply the spray.”

“It’s fine, IG. I’ll be gone soon enough”

Din squeezed my hand and rubbed his thumb over it. He struggled to speak.

“Mesh’la, gar cuyanir. You survive. Let me have a warrior’s death.”

He was still holding my hand as he looked at me.

“Please.”

I nodded. The IG unit turned to us again. It gestured to Karga and Cara.

“You two must go ahead of us. I will bring them.”

The two non-injured people of our party slipped through the grate with the child. 

“You must cover your eyes. It is in the code of Mandalore that you are not to see a Mandalorian without his helmet. I will blindfold you.”

I nodded and tried to pull my hand out of Din’s. His grip tightened.

“Don’t.”

I nodded as my vision was taken away.

Soon after, I heard soft breathing and a dull ‘thunk’ on a table. 

Din’s breathing sounded nice.

There was a quiet spraying noise, and soon Din’s breath could be heard through his helmet’s modulator again. The blindfold came off, and the IG unit was standing over me.

“We will wait until the Mandalorian can carry you.”

Not long after, I passed out. And perhaps it was for the better, as when I woke up, I was laying on the ground in what looked to be a blacksmith’s workshop. 

“Hello again.”

It was the damn droid.

“I can take out the glass and assess your wound now.”

I rolled my eyes.

“And you waited until I woke up?”

Cara chuckled.

Another Mandalorian—a female perhaps?—was speaking to Din. She gestured toward me.

“And you have taken on a third?”

“She is only helping me with the child—”

“And you have taken on a third?”

She was ruthless.

Din sighed.

“I have.”

She placed something on his shoulder and attached it to his beskar.

“You are a clan of three.”

Din glanced to me. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling.

At that moment, an intense pain caused me to black out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter specifically includes dialogue from the Disney+ original series, The Mandalorian. I am in no way associated with Disney or the Star Wars franchise and own only what is original to me.
> 
> Mando'a dialogue:
> 
> Mesh’la, gar cuyanir—beautiful, you survive.


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic depictions of violence, depictions of a panic attack, graphic description of pain, death
> 
> THIS CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE OF SEASON ONE

iv.  
When I woke again, IG-11 was cauterizing my wound. I gritted my teeth and balled up my hands in pain. The droid reached a particularly fleshy part of my torso, and I hissed.

“It seems that (Y/N) has awoken.”

We were outside of the room that I fell unconscious in, and I could see the armorer talking to Din and the others.

“It has only been a few minutes since you blacked out. I removed the objects from your body and I have staunched the bleeding. I am now closing the wound.”

“Yeah, IG, I can see that.”

My head fell against the metal floor as the muscles throughout my body contracted painfully. Sure, there had been plenty of injuries in the rebellion, but there was always numbing spray or anesthetic around when I needed it.

Now, I was breathless from the blinding pain.

The IG unit was a bit louder now.

“Does anyone have a cloth that our mechanic could bite down on? I am afraid she will damage her teeth if she continues to grind them.”

The small group of people turned to us. I moved to wave at them before another wave of pain had me groaning.

I hadn’t realized that the IG unit was holding me down until I tried to roll over. Perhaps it was for the better.

“Kriff, IG! Was bacta not good enough?” 

I had more to say, but I was cut off by a tearing sound. When I next opened my eyes, Din was hovering over me, a piece of thick cloth in his hand. 

“Do you want this?”

I weakly nodded.

He stuffed the cloth between my teeth as gently as he could and started to rise from his squatting position.

“Din, would you please restrain her? It would be more efficient if I could use more of my extremities.”

Din returned to his squatting position and gently lowered his hands on my arms.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

I raised my right hand to meet his on its descent, and I laced my fingers with his long ones. 

He made no move to stop me.

Suddenly, the pain became ten times worse as IG-11 continued his cauterizing while also cleaning the wound with what felt like hellfire. Tears welled in my eyes and I slammed my head into the ground multiple times. I screamed through the cloth in my mouth, and Din squeezed my hand. I was sweating like a Wookie on Tatooine, and my legs were kicking up and moving of their own accord. Din moved to also place his knees on my thighs as to stop me from moving as much as possible.

When IG took the slightest break, I found myself wishing that I was bound and gagged under him in very different circumstances.

That was frightening. 

But all thoughts stopped as IG continued. At that point, my eyes overflowed and tears ran down the sides of my face and dropped onto the ground. 

After what seemed like hours, IG stopped.

“The wound is closed. I would like to suture some smaller wounds. Din, she will no longer need to be restrained. However, she needs to sit up so that I might assess her less substantial wounds.”

Din nodded and removed himself from on top of me. He took the cloth out of my mouth and sat behind me. As gently as he could, Din maneuvered me up to rest against his chest. His hands came underneath my arms to rest on my collarbone, holding me up.

This pain was significantly less horrible than the cauterizing, but I still let my head rest on Din’s shoulder. IG was busy stitching me up, Cara and Karga were talking of an escape plan, and the armorer was gone.

Being held like this felt intimate. Sensual. Especially with someone who never does so much as remove his gloves.

Especially when I was half-naked but the heat radiating from Din’s body—and perhaps mine as well—meant that the beskar against my back was warm. 

My heart fluttered when he reached to hold both of my hands and IG cleaned a particularly dirty laceration. Even though we both knew that the pain was small, I had a feeling that he knew that our interlaced fingers would give me something else to think about.

Finally, IG wrapped me in bandages from my hips all the way up to the cloth that was securing my breasts. The droid pulled down my shirt and gave me the all-clear to move. Din moved my arm over his shoulder and we stood. I winced as I straightened up. My crutch tilted his head, and I shook mine.

“We need to get out of here. Don’t worry about me.”

We headed down a southern bound tunnel and boarded a boat on a river of lava. The droid hummed to life behind us, and we set off.

I was still too delirious to understand anything that was going on. Perhaps I had an infection. Or more likely, the adrenaline wore off. 

Suddenly, there was panic around me.

Stormtroopers, I gathered. Waiting outside the exit of the tunnel. After much argument and a few gestures toward me, IG handed Cara a strange object and stepped off the boat. He waded in the magma until he reached the end of the tunnel, and there was a large explosion. 

And the droid was no more. 

We were still drifting down the magma river, but the tension seemed to be lower. 

When we emerged from the tunnel, singed trooper corpses littered the ground. But the peace and relief was interrupted by a high-pitched rumble of a TIE fighter. 

“Moff Gideon!”

Cara was the one to yell, and everyone drew their weapons. Even I weakly reached for my blaster before Din stepped in front of me.

The small ship flew low and began to shoot. The ground around us rumbled.

Our blaster fire did nothing to the ship.

“He missed,” I said incredulously. 

Din turned to me.

“He won’t next time.”

Karga turned to where the child was sitting in a bag, resting on the ground.

“Let’s make the baby do the magic hand thing! Come on baby, do the magic hand thing.”

Karga waved three fingers in the air, and the child cooed and waved back at him.

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” the man said, turning back to Din.

“I’m not.”

Din lifted the strange object I had seen earlier, and he secured it to his back. Small jets of fire shot out the bottom as Cara continued to shoot at the TIE fighter. As Gideon drew closer, he opened fire, and Din lifted off the ground. He shot a line out of his forearm and attached onto the ship. He placed a bomb on it and immediately let go. Din struggled in the air for a moment before landing again, and the TIE fighter fell in flames.

His cape fluttered behind him and he looked oddly beautiful against the pale sky. Cara wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to my feet, helping me walk toward the beskar-clad man. The movement had me in immense pain again, and I wasn’t able to actively participate in the conversation.

What I gathered was that Cara and Karga were staying on Nevarro, and Din, the child, and I were to depart. Din looked to me, and held out his arms. Cara gently guided me to him, and while I was expecting an arm around my waist to help me walk, he also put an arm under my knees and carried me like I was a child. I yelped in surprise, and the others chuckled. He gently placed the child in my lap. I waved in farewell to my companions, and turned to Din when they were tiny dots in the distance.

“You could put me down, you know.”

He shook his head.

“You need to heal.”

We stayed in silence for a few moments.

“If I may be so bold, Din—can I call you that?”

He nodded slowly.

I hesitated, having lost my confidence. He tilted his head as a cue to continue. I was wringing my hands.

“I, um. I liked it a lot earlier. When you were holding my hands. And when I was leaning against you. And I don’t know what I’m even saying, I’m sorry.”

A pregnant pause stretched between us.

“It was nice.”

Well, at least he agreed. Even if he wasn’t very verbal about it.

I moved my hand, the one slung around his neck, to caress the beskar helmet.

“So why can’t you take this thing off?”

“Because I can’t put it back on again.”

“Is there a lock or something?”

He chuckled. I couldn’t hear it, but I felt it. In his chest. Which was very warm.

“No, mesh’la. It means that I can’t be a Mandalorian any longer. It’s a tenet of the Resol’nare, the Mandalorian creed.”

I was about to question the nickname. He had called me the same thing earlier in the cantina. Obviously, it was Mando’a.

But I didn’t question him about that.

“Can you teach me about that?”

“It is sacred and ancient. Perhaps in the security of the Crest, but certainly not here.”

I nodded.

Luckily for us, I saw it on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in no way affiliated with Disney or the Star Wars franchise. I own nothing but original characters and settings.


	5. v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More pain. Again, follow me on insta!

Sadly though, along with the approaching silhouette of the Razor Crest, another, more somber figure came into view.

Kuiil’s corpse laid on the ground, along with the Blurg that he was riding. 

Din slowed as we drew closer to the Ugnaut, and he gently placed my feet on the ground. 

I kneeled before Kuiil. Not only because I couldn’t stand, but out of respect for him. The child waddled toward him and made noises of distress. Tears slid down his face as they did mine, and I tugged the child back to me. I hugged him close, turning his eyes away from the tragedy in front of him. He doesn’t need to see that.

“The two of you go inside. I’ll bury him.”

It was unceremonious as I bid Kuiil farewell. I placed a hand on his forehead as Din helped to walk me inside. When we stepped into the cockpit of the Crest, I sat in the captain’s chair, the child in my lap. 

I watched as Din took Kuiil’s goggles off of his head. I watched as he was buried, mourning the loss of an innocent soul. When Din was done, he placed Kuiil’s goggles on top of the small grave and knelt for a moment. I couldn’t tell what he was doing. Perhaps he was praying, perhaps he was simply mourning the loss of an ally. 

Din stood again, and he took a last look at the grave before walking to the Crest, a hesitation and heaviness I hadn’t before seen in his steps. 

The child was asleep in my lap when Din walked into the cockpit. Tears were still streaming down my face, and Din took the child from me, disappearing into the cargo hold to put the child to bed. He returned shortly, and lifted the ship into space. When I looked up at him next, a gloved hand was extended toward me. Shaking, I took it.

He lead me toward his quarters, and released my hand at the doorway. Again, he disappeared for a short while. I found myself nodding off, and I woke when a gentle hand was placed on my shoulder.

It was Din’s. He had on no gloves, and no armor but his helmet. I looked around the small room and I realized that my bed had joined his, pushed together to make space for two people.

“You can’t be alone right now.”

It was the only thing he offered in explanation. But I knew his body language, and I knew what the slump of his shoulders meant.

He couldn’t be alone either. 

“You’re going to sleep with the helmet on?”

He nodded. 

“Can I change your bandages?”

I nodded. 

His hand, covered in beautiful golden skin and calluses, gently took hold of mine as he maneuvered us to the bed. He sat me down and knelt in front of me, a medkit next to him. I pulled off my shirt and goosebumps covered my skin.

My gasp was not the only one in the room.

We didn’t mention it. 

Blood soaked through parts of the already-grimy bandage, and I groaned as he cut through it.

“I need to cauterize some places. Will you be okay?”

I nodded slowly, bunching my hands in the sheets. Din looked around, and he handed me a cloth that I hadn’t seen before.

“It goes between my clothes and the beskar. It’s clean.”

I took it and stuck it between my teeth, preparing for the pain. The buzzing and snapping of the tool caught my attention, and he must have noticed my eyes going wide at the noise.

“I know, I don’t like it either. Breathe.”

He glided a hand up and down from my knee to my hip, squeezing every so often.

“I’m going to start now, is that okay?”

I weakly nodded, and the popping and buzzing returned. I screwed my eyes shut in anticipation, and wished the pain away.

It wasn’t as bad as cauterizing my large gash, but it wasn’t a field of daisies. 

I bunched the sheets up in my fists and my muscles clenched painfully.

But all things come to an end, and it was over soon enough. I was sweating bullets and I had ripped the sheets on the bed, but I was okay.

Din took the cloth from my mouth and replaced it with a two pills, one an antibiotic and the other a painkiller.

“You use the fresher.”

I nodded and rose from the bed slowly. Din’s hand found the inside of my elbow and he helped me hobble to the small fresher.

“Let me know if you need any help.”

I was fine for a while. I really was. Taking my clothes off proved to be a grand feat, and I stepped into the sonic quickly.

‘Well fuck,’ I thought. ‘I can’t wash my hair. My arms won’t reach over my head.’

“Din!” I yelled. It was a matter of seconds until I heard him at the door.

“Yes?”

The meds were kicking in.

“Can you wash my hair?”

Silence.

“Uh yeah. I’m coming in.”

It was unceremonious, really. He took off his gloves and reached for the soap. I leaned back a small bit, but he towered over me anyway and there was no need for it. He massaged the shampoo into my hair, and quickly rinsed it out.

I was blushing the whole time, and I was mortified when a small moan escaped my lips when Din worked his fingers along my scalp. A crackling noise came from his helmet. I couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Shortly after, the soap was out of my hair. But Din stayed, rubbing my scalp and working out the built up tension in my neck and shoulders. It was slow. And nice.

But it came to an end when we heard a quiet thunk, most certainly the child exploring the ship.

“I guess I need to be a good dad,” Din said, and left.

I wasted no time in drying myself and fixing my hair into a towel and—

Fuck.

My clothes.

I sighed and opened the door to the cargo hold. My head swiveled around from side to side.

I hoped he was in the cockpit.

But he wasn’t in the cockpit. In fact, he was sitting on our bed, polishing his armor. He heard me open the door, and he likely heard my string of curses as I saw him. His head turned to me and I heard another crackle from his helmet, similar to the one earlier.

These meds are the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in no way affiliated with Disney. I own only what is of my own creation.


	6. vi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite explicit. Please proceed with caution.

I had tried to get dressed in silence, but the state of my body didn’t allow such things.

I winced every time I had to bend or twist or move in general, but I wasn’t going to take those pills again. They create lapses in judgement. 

Din was still polishing his armor (now on his third pass over his greaves) when he spoke.

“Do you need my help?”

I nodded. 

I’m not saying that Mando’s a perv, but there was no way he could’ve seen me nodding on accident, and I made no verbal indication that I desired his help. Perhaps I should’ve realized that. 

I felt his bare hands on my sides from behind me, his thumbs making small circles on my skin. 

Having heard my sighs, the warrior moved his hands to the curve of my back, kneading the flesh there. I rested my head on his shoulder and leaned against his chest. Goosebumps raised on my skin in the wake of his hands, and I shivered, moaning. He pulled my ass to his hips and continued working out the knots in my back.

This went on for several more minutes, his breathing became ragged and warmth spread between my thighs.

“Tell me—ah, skies, (Y/N), tell me you want this.”

“Din, please, I’ve wanted this since we met.”

“Tell me that you need it.”

I moaned and pressed myself closer to him.

“I need it, Din!”

He groaned from behind the helmet.

“My name sounds beautiful on your lips,” he said as he reached from behind me to grasp my breasts in his large, beautiful, bare hands.

He trailed his fingers down to meet the waistband of my pants, slipping under them to rub my clit and tease my rapidly gushing slit.

My moans were loud and became louder when Din slipped a single finger inside of me. It was warm and thick, and it seemed to fill me even though it was only one.

He slowly rubbed his fingers on my clit in small circles, and he drew back the finger inside of me and returned to my warmth with an additional digit. He quickly found the wonderful spot inside of me and dragged his fingers against it slowly.

This action drew a moan out of me, and Din took my noise as a cue to speed up and continue, a greatly appreciated decision. 

Within minutes I had neared the edge of orgasm.

“Please, Din, more, I’m so so so so close!”

My hips ground against his own and his wonderful hands working magic on my pussy, high-pitched moans escaping me.

My legs tensed and shook under me, and Din had to support me with the arm wrapped around my stomach to play with my clit.

Everything tensed and I came with a shout of his name. He finger-fucked me through it, slowing his movements when I stopped clenching around his hands.

We were both very out of breath.

“Is that all you’ve got, Mandalorian?”

He grunted and grabbed me by the hips, and forced my torso against the bed. I heard a zipper and the wet, unmistakable noises of Din stroking himself. He rubbed his cock through my slick created by me orgasm, and positioned himself at my entrance.

“Is this okay?”

A moment of tenderness.

“It’s more than okay.”

He slowly thrusted in, his girth stretching me and his length brushing against all of the sweetest and most sensitive parts of me.

I could safely say that he was the most well-endowed man I’ve ever been with.

I moaned when he moved slightly, minutely drawing back and pushing back in, and it spurred him on.

Moments later, I was no longer in the safety of the Crest and I was pinned against a table, a stranger roughly taking what wasn’t rightfully his.

“No,” I muttered quietly. 

“Stop,” I managed, a bit louder.

And then I was back with Din, his cock inside me and a hand rubbing my clit.

“No, no! Stop! Get off of me, please!”

Tears were rolling down my cheeks.

Din immediately pulled out of me, and his hands came away from my body.

“(Y/N), what happened? I need for you to tell me what happened and if you’re okay.”

There was concern in his voice.

I shook my head and I sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Din, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

I turned around and sat on the bed, reaching out my hand. Din stepped back towards me, squeezing my hand in his.

“I had a flashback.”

He nodded.

“What do you need me to do for you?”

“Clothes. Please.”

He nodded again, and rose to retrieve clothes for me. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

When I opened my eyes, a soft shirt and some comfortable pants were held out to me. I rose and put them on, tightening the drawstring in the pants. I looked back over to Din, who was now in some comfortable looking clothes and his helmet, laying on the bed.

“Din?”

“Yes?”

“Can you hold me?”

He opened his arms in answer, and I crawled into them, settling my face against his warm neck and wrapping my arms around his broad chest. One of his arms snaked around my waist and his other reached up to turn off the light. 

It was nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in no way affiliated with Disney. I own only what is of my own creation.


End file.
